KEY POINTS:
By any yardstick, Queensland's Project STOP has been a successful tool in the battle against the P scourge. Information gathered since late 2005, when a database tracking pharmacy pseudoephedrine sales was introduced, has led to charges for trafficking, supply and production, and the detection of clandestine drug laboratories. The database has served to reduce access to P and to act as a deterrent. Its success has, unsurprisingly, prompted the Australian Government to allocate funding for a nationwide extension. Given equally alarming P statistics in this country, it would seem only sensible for New Zealand pharmacists, the police and health authorities to develop a similar drug-watch system.
Matters are not quite that simple, however, as reported in the Herald series "The Price of P". Under Project STOP, the driver's licence details of anyone buying drugs such as decongestants containing pseudoephedrine, which are used to make P, are recorded. The police are sent alerts from the database when repeat purchases are made. The problem with duplicating this in New Zealand lies in the fact that driver's licences cannot, it seems, be used that way. They can be demanded only for the purposes of owners identifying themselves as licensed drivers.
The architects of this country's privacy law doubtless saw good reason for this. They fretted that the photo licence could be a Trojan Horse for a national ID card because drivers would be required to carry it at all times. It could, the Privacy Commissioner at the time, Bruce Slane, argued, become standard practice for government agencies, the police and retailers to request it for identification. Their view prevailed, and asking for a driver's licence as a means of ID is not permitted.
In practice, of course, the licence has, in many instances, become a de facto ID card. People choose regularly to use it for a range of activities, such as opening bank accounts or obtaining Inland Revenue numbers. In this informal way, New Zealand has developed along similar lines to other constituencies that have photo driver's licences. But in a formal arena, such as a pharmacy-based database, the privacy provisions peculiar to the New Zealand licence become a stumbling block. Whatever the good intentions of the law, they, in this instance, run contrary to common sense.
Clearly, a way must be found around this roadblock. It takes only a moment's thought to recognise the value of the Project STOP database. Important support is provided to pharmacists when they are making judgments about the supply of products containing pseudoephedrine. They can make informed decisions, and avoid value judgments based on superficial qualities, such as physical appearance. At the same time, sales of pseudoephedrine products are recorded, and the police and other authorities can track the movements of drug runners.
Since the project began, Queensland police have reported a 23 per cent reduction in the number of P labs being discovered. The deterrent value of the database is apparent. Their New Zealand counterparts face a much more difficult task. Rather than being alerted by a database, they must request handwritten or faxed information from pharmacies. Given the extent of the problem and the need for a rapid response, this is nonsensical.
The informal use of driver's licences for ID purposes suggests privacy concerns have been overstated. People see the licence not so much in terms of potential peril as in terms of its practicality. They would also be more than comfortable to see it used in the fight against the P epidemic.
